


Alone.

by deathsworn



Category: Vampire Hunter D (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Drabble, Other, Short One Shot, Single POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 10:58:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19271896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathsworn/pseuds/deathsworn
Summary: I do not tend to write long stories, more-so one shot drabbles coming from PoV of a character of personal choosing. This is my first work published on this website & I hope those who read it can view the character of D in my writing, regardless of the written length.





	Alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not tend to write long stories, more-so one shot drabbles coming from PoV of a character of personal choosing. This is my first work published on this website & I hope those who read it can view the character of D in my writing, regardless of the written length.

The memory is alike a phantom limb times thousand, emanation in sacrificial blood spilled and innocent lives as a brush-stroke against what was once white canvas of carcasses which lived, lungs full of air. It hits, at once -------- this terrible, horrible feeling overtaking every fiber of this thousand years old, worn body, in instantaneous waves of pure & brute force; pushing left, right ... their bloodied hands reach for the fragility of my throat and grasping / emptied of what air dare breathe in, they desperately wish to overtake this life-force for themselves and 𝙗𝙚 again, sole motivator in the nonexistent fight I wage ... against myself. Their bodies lay before me, mangled, as a botched mural, as a grotesque glory to creation of I, an eternal reminder for as long as my foot set upon dried soil, to which I dare ------ 

Entombed atonement, caged in never - ending open crypts, it is a haunting of my beginning: endless expanse & lachrymose memories hovering across the sky above my head, paintings of grotesque horror. I cling to it, almost cowardly / it is a twisted honoring, honoring that rots away and stands for naught, at the end of ends ------. Every breath i take is a knife to my throat, pyre composing with every swallow. Ouroboros notion that I am followed with / my curse, my withdrawal ----- eternal.

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞?

It is a walk of the guilty, after all. Heavy steps that sink into depths of ground, I bleed, myself ------ overcome, a shake, eidolon neglected by even Erebos himself. My hands touch a single stone, 𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙮. A flower is laid upon its coldness, single honoring for the lives lost / sorrowing to my existence.

“ 𝑖'𝑚 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦. ”

And then, alike wind, as if I never were there ---------- night takes me elsewhere, away from my existential shame.


End file.
